Possessing Nothing, Possessing You
by E 330
Summary: AU. Naruto's hurt and introverted. He finds comfort only in the presence of the one who loves him. He doesn't love him back, does he? But what would he be without him.


Alright, rewrite number 3! It's the magical figure or something, right? I changed a lot of things this time. The most shocking thing: I actually came up with a plot for this thing. This was just a drabble at first so it needed to be developed. I now knew what I was writing so it should be a bit better. Also again I removed some of the confusion. It should be more consistent this time... hopefully. It's Naruto's point of view, but I'm still not giving away much about the circumstances, but they don't matter. The feelings matter.

I, of course, adore reviews and reviewers like any other writer. I see how many times this story has been looked at, but I don't know how many people hated it, how many loved it, how many didn't understand any of it and how many quit after the first three lines. I really don't know if this is a good story or not! Also, tell me if I should write another chapter. I could, but I won't if nobody wishes for it. Please tell me what you think! 

Disclamer: Masashi Kishimoto owns the Naruto characters.

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Posessing Nothing, Possessing You  


I look at life with thought, criticism. But is it good? The others, they live their lives mostly happy, not wondering. Not thinking about the simplest questions. Not knowing how horrible life really is. It would be so easy.

But what are these feelings really?

He tells me he loves me but all it does is gets me confused.

What do they really feel?

They all look happy. Smiling, laughing and chatting like there's no worry in the world.

Are they really like that? Do they change when they go home?

How many of them are pretending to be like the others? I am not pretending. I can't do that, not anymore.

I understand their laughter but can't join in. At one time they're laughing with a reason, at the other they're just keeping the spirit up.

One looks at me. He is the one who says he loves me. He smiles slightly. I can't understand why. He seems different from the others but he's still the same. He chats and smiles and laughs with the others, but still he smiles like he understands me. He looks at me claiming that he understands. Understands my pain. I don't believe him. I want to, but I don't.

Someone comes to me offering something. I decline. They think they understand. They really don't. They just know that it's best to leave me alone. That is what I want. And at the same time, it is not. I want to join them and laugh with them, but I don't know how to. Not anymore. So I just hang around, far enough from the biggest crowd.

He knows that I'm lonely here. That's why his eyes never leave me alone for too long. He knows I don't want to chat about something pointless so he stays away, but still stays near.

I feel his presence. I always feel it. When I don't, I start to panic. Maybe I love him. I don't know. I just want to be selfish and cruelly use his love. I accept his presence, treasure it, but never give anything back. I want to, but I can't. I won't go that near to anyone.

ooooo

He approaches me. He says something and I nod in answer. He wants me near, I see it in him. He knows I won't relent but he still hopes.

I know I'll give in some day.

He keeps me company sometimes. We mostly sit at my apartment. I like it best there. We don't speak much. He avoids chitchat. He knows I hate it.

ooooo

I went to see a doctor today. My teacher made me do it, said something about social interactions. They reserved a time with some specialist.

I don't care.

He came to see me later.

He wanted to ask what happened but hesitated. Finally he asked.

I stared at nothing and kept quiet. We all know that I'm different. Does it really make me sick?

I tried not to look miserable. Maybe I managed the smallest of smiles. I don't know.

He gave me a small acceptant smile himself. He was secretly glad. I don't know what he concluded. Probably that I'm not dying.

ooooo

A lot of friends around again. I don't see him around. I'm kind of sad.

He probably asked someone what the doctor had really said. My patient info always got out. Doctors tell my friends about me, thinking it might make me talk to them.

He probably found out what the specialist said today, too.

I'm not dying. But we all knew that.

I wouldn't mind dying, though. Only that I don't want to leave him alone. He doesn't deserve it. But he should leave a miserable peace like me alone. Only because he has an emotional attachment to me… what are they anyways? They are all too easy to break and re-create.

The doctor said that there is nothing wrong with me. Physically. He said that I have something, though. Some psychological disorder or something. He says that I don't trust anyone. I don't. And I hate physical contact with people. I don't like words. The doctor says I'm not autistic because as a child I was normal. He said it's because of all the stress I'm under. And all the losses in my life. He was a therapist or something. He had to be. I couldn't concentrate on what he said.

I leave my friends and go outside.

Why are they my friends? Because they still invite me to spend an evening with them even when I always just sit around silent. Or maybe they're my friends because they know what is alright to say to me and what is not and they know when to say nothing. Or maybe they just invite me because they know that he'll come if I come.

Maybe they want to take him away from me…

How mine is he? I've grown so used to him that I've declared him mine. I'm unfair.

I don't even know what he really thinks of me. Is he a brother or a love object?

Surprisingly, I'm upset when I couldn't find him there. Where am I going? Home? No-one's waiting for me there.

I'm pathetic.

I go to a park.

I sit on a swing. But I just sit. My head hanging low and my back horribly hunched.

I want to cry. What would I cry for?

No, there's no reason to cry. Not now, not ever. This day is just like all the others. I should make not seeing him a custom. He'll get over his sickness. Me.

It's actually chilly. It took me a long time to notice. I contemplate leaving, but I stay.

I feel someone close by. It feels important to know who they are and if they're here to kill me, but I don't look up.

I feel like a caged animal. Other people stare at me and I can't escape them anywhere. Some think I'm mute. But I only talk little. It's useless. No-one has anything to say anyways.

Someone kneels in front of me. Why can't I just look? It feels like my depression is weighing on me so heavily that I can't even move my head.

Man talks to me. I don't know what he says. All I hear is his voice. I recognise it.

He's calling my name.

I look up.

There he is. The one who says he loves me. His expression is gentle. He picks my hands in his. I stare down at them. Why am I not wincing? I should have jumped up and left.

I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I don't know. My head is filled with confusion and comfort and I can't tear my eyes off him.

Maybe I love him. But I lost that feeling a long time ago. Forgot what it felt like while fearing it like death.

I'm kissing him. My eyes are closed.

I don't know what he'll do. Doesn't he want this?

I touch his cheek with my thumb. I don't know anything about touching anymore.

He puts his hand behind my head and kisses me back. Yes, he wanted this.

I want to love him.

He draws away and stares at me in the eyes. He smiles and pulls my head to his chest.

I love his smell. Is he content?

He touches my hair and draws his fingers through it. He tells he loves how smooth it is.

His own long dark hair is cushioning my cheek. It's not even smooth, it's silky.

I don't deserve him. But I want to be selfish. I won't let him leave me.

We go to my place. He doesn't know what to do.

I'm tired after feeling everything. I lead him to bed.

We lie here. He doesn't know what to do again, doesn't know what's appropriate. I place his hand around me.

I guess this is okay then. He's content.

And I don't want to lose him.


End file.
